


Communication Breakdown

by ourcrashdownblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dialogue Heavy, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourcrashdownblue/pseuds/ourcrashdownblue
Summary: If Dean/Cas actually does go canon at the end of the series (and that's a big if folks), I hope/think it might it go something like this...
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	Communication Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> I am not holding out a lot of hope that Destiel will ever become part of the series' canon and will only be a legend I tell my grandkids about someday...but if the powers that be actually do go through with it, here's one of a million ways it could go down. 
> 
> And yes, the title is a Led Zeppelin song because I love when spn episode titles are also song titles <3
> 
> I reserve no rights whatsoever. Hope you enjoy!

“Dean, I need to talk to you.”

Dean’s foot thudded down from the last step, and he spun in place to get a better look over his grocery bag, “How long you been waitin’ there?” Dean chuckled, sauntering over to the long library table Cas stood beside. Today the ex-angel was decked out in jeans and a plain t-shirt from a pack of eight that they’d bought a few weeks ago. It had been the first addition to Casitel’s human wardrobe. It was still bizarre to see Cas in, like, normal clothes, but it was a comforting sight nonetheless.

“Please, it’s important.”

Dean’s smile waned. He double-checked the paper bag--nothing that needed to get into the fridge ASAP. He set it down on the table and slid his canvas jacket onto one of the chair backs.

“Mhmm? Go ahead shoot.” 

“Could you sit down for a moment?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Cas’s eyes were stormy and forlorn. The library chair screeched as he pulled it back, and Cas scrubbed a hand over the stubbly five o’clock shadow he’d been letting grow in lately. Another bizarre but kinda awesome Human Cas thing, “What’s up? You’re freaking me out here, man…”

Cas sighed and leaned against the table. That was never a good sign.

“I am in love with you, Dean,” the ex-angel seemed to droop a little further as he added, “I’m sorry.”

Dean froze, eyes not focusing but still fixed on his best friend standing before him. Cas’s shoulders were pushed back in his usual proud stance, but his dipped head and crossed arms gave away his anxiousness. He was looking somewhere near Dean’s hands, something like resignation already hardening his features.

“Cas, I--the hell are you talking about?” he gritted his teeth.

Really? This was how they were gonna do this? He’d always... _ wondered _ , sure, but he still felt like he’d just been knocked on his ass. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He hadn’t dreamed that Cas would  _ actually _ ...he thought he’d have more time to get his own crap straightened out first.

“Since the Empty--since I became human again...I cannot find the strength to hide this from you anymore. I--” Cas gulped and his olive skin seemed pink and...blotchy? Though his eyes were averted, Dean could already see a haziness in them. It honestly kinda scared the crap out of him--he’d never seen Cas this  _ upset _ before. Was the dude gonna...cry?

He stuffed down that cold, wet fear and let heat begin to boil in his stomach instead. Served the ex-angel right to be upset, he’d just sprang this crap on Dean, after all! Dean--he wasn’t ready! He wanted to kick his own ass for not being prepared. What the hell was he supposed to say? Part of him knew they were always headed for this conversation...but still... 

“We’re gonna do this now? Where Jack or-or  _ Sam _ could waltz right in, huh?”

Okay, maybe not numero uno on his priorities but--dammit, it was the first thing that spilled out of his mouth.

Cas rubbed at the back of his neck, still not meeting Dean’s eyes. Dean gripped his chair arms.

“...Sam is already aware,” Cas sighed.

“ _ What? _ You told--dammit, Cas!” Dean scrubbed a hand over his eyes. His cheeks felt hot and he was sure he was blushing.

Still, not exactly what he was angry about...but hell if this wasn’t the easier argument to have.

“No,” Cas huffed but a twisted kind of acceptance of Dean’s anger had already sunken into his pursed lips, “He guessed.”

“He  _ guessed _ ?” 

“When I requested that he give us privacy to have a personal discussion...he guessed.”

“Well, that’s just great, Cas,” Dean’s stomach was sloshed. He didn’t mean for his words to be so harsh, but he felt like a caged animal just hissing and biting and overwhelmed. He wasn’t exactly worried about Sam--kid was a salad-eating, free-love hippie who didn’t have a  _ truly  _ judgy bone in his body. Hell, Dean was prob’ly more judgy than Sam in the end. Sure he could bitchface with the best of them, but Sam had forgiven or accepted Dean’s messed up crap for their whole damn lives, it wasn’t like a little dude-on-dude love was gonna push Sam away. But still--it made Dean’s skin itch that right that second, Sam probably thought him and Cas were going to town on each other or something. Dmmit, he wanted to be the one to tell Sam--not have him hear about it from his...well, whatever Cas was to him, “What do you want me to say? You tell me this outta freakin’ left field, and you tell Sam before me-- I’m sure that’s gonna be a lovely conversation, by the way--”

“ _ If you had let me finish _ ,” the ex-angel snapped, “I just wanted to tell you this: I know that even if this vessel--my body, aligned with your sexual orientation...I know that you don’t return my feelings. You see me as your brother--your kin,” Dean scoffed because, yeah, so, maybe he said that  _ once _ a long-ass time ago but it was way more complicated than that. Especially now, “I understand that, and I am honored that you count me as your family. Especially after everything I’ve done to you and Sam--”

“Hey, don’t start with that, Cas--” 

Cas ignored him and pressed on, “What I’m trying to say is that I think it would be best if I spent some time away from the bunker.”

Dean’s stomach dropped like a heavy stone in his body. Every muscle in his body clenched as the all-too-familiar zip of adrenaline seeped into his blood. Was he...was he serious? The dude wasn’t actually gonna friggin’ leave, was he? This was not the way this was supposed to go...

“So you’re--what? You’re just gonna leave now?”

Hurt flashed bright and brilliant in Cas’s dark blue eyes. Crap--yup, those were some red-rimmed eyes if Dean had ever seen ‘em. What was Dean even doing? Great job, Winchester, you’re gonna make an  _ angel _ cry because you’re a dick. Cas pushed away from the table to stand at his full height. He was getting ready to walk away, wasn’t he?

“I think that would be best for everyone right now, yes,” Cas shoved his hands in his borrowed-jeans pockets and shifted his weight on his feet. Dean wanted to haul him back the extra foot of space he’d wedged between them. No, no, no, what the hell was he doing? ‘Best’ for who? Wasn’t Cas even gonna give him a chance to say anything? Did he really wanna leave Dean that badly that he wasn’t even gonna give them a shot?

“What are you gonna even do? Just go out and get another job at a gas station, huh? Shack up with another reaper?”

That...was not what he’d meant to say. Dammit.

Cas glared at him for a moment before his shoulders slumped and--God, his eyes getting glassier by the second. The ex-angel looked more tired than Dean had ever seen him. Even when they’d had their last fight--when Cas thought Dean didn’t trust him--Cas hadn’t looked so... _ hopeless _ . He’d still had some defiance in him, some spark of determination. But there was none of that now.

“Well, actually my plan was to work on a few cases out of the area for a while to give you some space. I had thought it would be a temporary arrangement...but, if you would be more comfortable with me living elsewhere, I will respect your wishes.”

What? Dean tried to retrace the thread of this whole damn thing...when had he ever said he wanted Cas to leave for good? When had Dean ever said he wanted Cas to leave at all? He felt his heart hammering in his chest, blood rushing in his ears and sweat under his arms. This was a load of crap! After all they’d been through, why would Cas ever think Dean would just throw it all away over friggin’ feelings? Even if y’know...he didn’t share them--he wasn’t that much of a jackass. Cas was his best friend--anything they got to be on top of that was just whipped cream on the cherry pie as far as he was concerned.

“My wishes? Come on, Cas, give me a little credit! I’d never just kick you out on your ass like that!”

Cas’s narrowed eyes shot up to Dean and the hunter immediately regretted his wording. He bit his lip and knew that whatever Cas snapped at him for, he whole-heartedly deserved it. 

“Oh, you  _ wouldn’t _ , would you?” Cas spat, “Was you abandoning me the last time all just a dream, then?”

Dean threw himself out of his chair, scritching at his hair with both hands and trying to figure out what the hell to say to that. Cas was...absolutely right. He’d been a poor excuse for a friend and Cas had every right to call him out like that. He tried to force himself to calm down. Anger wasn’t gonna get him anywhere with Cas--they’d tried that before and it never worked. Still, his fists refused to unclench where they’d dropped to his sides.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Cas. You know that Sam--”

“Dean, just stop,” Cas pinched the bridge of his nose and friggin’  _ weariness  _ in the dude’s voice made something sharp and hot squeeze in his chest, “I know that you did what you had to do to save Sam. That’s not--I don’t want to fight with you. I value our friendship, Dean...I hope you know that. I also hope we can remain in contact, make sure the other is still safe and can be there if one of us needs help.”

No. No, it wasn’t gonna end like this. Nuh-uh.

“Cas--”

“This is for the best, Dean. For now, I’ll follow up on a lead I found near Pittsburgh. And while I’m out there, I guess I’ll do some research to make new living arrangements. I would take Jack with me but...he is safest in the bunker,” Dean’s his own eyes fell to the table when Cas’s voice crackled in the quiet of the library, “This is his home. You and Sam are his family...and I’d never take that away from him.”

Jesus, he hadn’t even thought about Jack. This...this was gonna crush ‘im.

“What’re you saying? We’re not your family, too?” Dean’s damn traitor eyes had started to sting. He turned his back to Cas before the ex-angel had the chance to notice the watery-ness Dean could feel springing to his lashes.

“ _ Dean _ ,” the hunter could hear the sharp edge of Cas’s words and could picture him gritting his teeth. He was truly gonna lose him, wasn’t he? “Of course you are. But I cannot do this anymore. Human emotions are...more difficult to suppress than the emotions I felt as an angel. I see you and I just--as I said, it hurts to want and lust after a person who does not share your affections. When I return to Kansas, I’ll find somewhere nearby to live. That way I can see Jack regularly, and am nearby in case of an emergency.”

A roll of nausea crashed into his stomach, burning his throat at the words. This was the end. Cas was...actually gonna leave?

“I’m gonna be sick,” Dean mumbled, clutching a white-knuckled hand over his stomach. His knees were shaky and cool sweat dripped down his temple as he leaned against a bookshelf. How had he screwed this up so badly that Cas thought the best option was to run away again? “Cas, man, I thought we were getting better at this whole trust thing.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas’s voice was barely above a whisper but it rang like a bell in Dean’s ears, “I did not intend for this to happen.”

“Don’t do this, man,” Dean swallowed around the thickness in his throat and stared at his boots. He heard Cas’s shoes tap as he headed toward the bedroom hallway then stop after he’d padded down the single step into the war room.

“I can’t be what we were, Dean...it hurts unbearably,” Cas muttered, “So I can’t stay here.”

“Don’t you care if this hurts me?”

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”

Everything in Dean’s body ached as the ex-angel’s steps faded away down the hall into silence. Dean wanted to follow him. God,  _ all he wanted to do  _ was follow him. He wanted to grab Cas by the scruff and try to talk some sense into him. He wanted to tell Cas that the last six months since Purgatory had been some of the happiest of his life--and that was sayin’ something. All because he got to see that damn stupid angel, like, every day. Cas even just would sit and watch movies or drink with him--or both. It was friggin’ _ awesome _ . He wanted to make Cas see how after he Cas extracted his own grace to become human and avoid the Empty, something had changed between the two of them and Dean couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the ex-angel anymore. At the end of the day, Cas’s heart was always in the right place and that was all that really mattered in this life.

But this-- _ this _ was nowhere near what was best for anyone. Dean felt like he’d just gotten his family back and happy--and now he was losing everything all over again. Didn’t Cas see that what made this Dean’s home was that Cas was there with them? Didn’t he get that Dean didn’t want him to apologize--he just wanted him to stay?

The hunter was grabbing his jacket and phone before he’d even realized where his legs were carrying him. He wanted-- _ needed  _ a drink, pronto. If he was gonna lose one of the best damn people in his godforsaken life, he wasn’t about to do it sober.

~

“Hey, Cas. What’s--whoa, are you okay?”

Castiel startled from his place in front of his bedroom door. In the dim light of the hallway, Sam had nearly barreled into him when he’d rounded the corner. In the process, Castiel had dropped one of his duffel bags, avoiding Sam’s eyes as he started to reach down to retrieve it.

“Where’re you going? You find a case?” Sam tucked the tablet he’d been distractedly looking at under his arm and grabbed up the bag for Castiel instead.

“Um, I--well, yes…”

Sam arched his brow at Castiel and the ex-angel winced at how out of the ordinary his hesitancy sounded even to his own ears. 

“Okay...great. You want back up, or is Dean already tagging along? Oh, how did your ‘private conversation’ go, huh?” Sam teased, dimples highlighting his wry smile. Castiel wished he could share in Sam’s cheerfulness, but his eyes dropped down to the taller man’s shoes and he took a deep breath.

“Sam--” It was selfish of him, given that this was his decision, but he’d hoped to put off telling Sam about his leaving for as long as possible. Maybe even let him find out from Dean. He let his bags drop back down to the floor. That wouldn't be fair to Sam  _ or _ Dean; this was his own mess to clean up. Any other way than direct would only be cowardice. Besides, he owed his friend--a man who’d always shown him great kindness--an explanation, “I’m leaving.”

“What?” Sam’s features immediately furrowed in confusion, “Where? What happened?”

“It would be best if Dean and I put some distance between us,” Castiel rubbed at his left temple. Why did human bodies have to be so susceptible to headaches? “He...did not exactly reciprocate my feelings.”

“Wait, whoa, what did he say?” Dark hair swished as Sam seemed to shake his head in disbelief.

“Well, to start with, he was angry that I even confessed to him,” That had hurt quite a great deal. He’d hoped that, even though Dean did not return his feelings, the hunter would at least understand why Castiel could not continue to live a lie. But he had not, it seemed, “Then he was angry that you had found out about it at all--”

“That _ moron _ , I swear to God--” Sam mumbled, hand raking through his hair. Castiel would miss that expressive hair that the younger Winchester wore so well.

“I told him that I was going to leave for a while so as not to make him more uncomfortable and,” Castiel swallowed, “well, I believe he’ll be more comfortable if I find somewhere else to live...permanently.”

“ _ He said that _ ?” Sam was narrowing his eyes and displaying the same expression he often wore before plunging his blade through a demon, “Dean actually kicked you out?”

“It was my decision, Sam.”

Though, seeing the budding pain in Sam’s eyes, Castiel was quickly regretting that decision. No. No, this was for the best. Sam had Dean and Jack, he’d be fine.

“I just--he--” Sam clapped his hands over his face and growled when words seemed to fail him. Castiel felt similar frustrations, and Sam’s more animalistic way of putting it captured Castiel’s feelings as well, “Even if he said that, you don’t really think he means it, do you?”

“Sam,” the ex-angel was starting to feel like cotton that was worn too thin, “I told Dean that I loved him, and he...he couldn’t even look me in the eye. He was disgusted with me. He said he was ‘going to be sick’.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Sam gritted his teeth, hands gesturing in the air, dangerously close to letting the tablet fall to the ground, “I’m gonna yank his head out of his ass, and then I’m gonna kill him.”

Castiel held up a hand, “There’s no need for violence.” 

He really hoped that he had not just inadvertently created another rift between the brothers. They had both been through so much already and he did not want to cause them further turmoil.

“No, Cas,” Sam huffed a humorless laugh that confused the ex-angel more than set him at ease, “I’m not  _ actually _ gonna kill him. I just...this doesn’t make any sense. Dean’s a lot of things but he’s not that much of a dick.”

“I cannot force him to return my feelings, Sam--nor would I want to. Your brother is a very special person, and he deserves to find happiness with whoever he chooses,” Happiness he, apparently, could never find in Castiel, “I would not want to stand in the way of that when I and my vessel cannot satisfy his needs.”

Castiel reached down to grab his bags. Every moment he spent in the closest thing he’d had to a home since Heaven felt like needles digging into his brain when he knew it’d never be able to return--not really.

“‘His needs’? Wait, he didn’t give you some ‘I don’t swing that way’ crap, did he?”

“I don’t understand…?” Swing which way? Was this some sort of euphemism?

Sam pursed his lips and exhaled through his nostrils, “I mean, you don’t think he rejected you because you’re a guy, do you?”

Castiel tilted his head. Sam, better than anyone, should know that Dean was very adamant about his love and lust for the female form, “He did not deny it when I mentioned it. And he is not exactly subtle about his desires.”

Sam’s face was red and an angry vein created a bump on his forehead. Castiel was slightly concerned his friend was going to have some kind of medical episode soon if he did not take a few deep breaths.

“Just--” Sam squared his shoulders, “do me a favor, Cas. Let me go find Dean. There’s stuff he’s not telling you--because he’s a  _ dumbass _ . This is just a stupid misunderstanding, alright? You gotta trust me.”

Castiel shifted his weight on his feet. He didn’t want to lose his nerve to leave, but he did still need to say goodbye to Jack…

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Sam.”

“Please, Cas,” Large hazel eyes were breaking through Castiel’s defenses with ease. Sam would always have a place in his heart and, if this is something he could give Sam he would, “Come on. Dean’s not the only one losing you, man. Please, for me? Just stay here a little bit longer…?”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped.

“Fine.”

Giant, warm hands clapped him on the shoulders, “Thanks, Cas. Really. Did you see which way he went after you guys talked?”

Cas savored Sam’s calming touch. He was going to miss the younger Winchester very much. Hopefully Sam would come visit him even if Dean refused.

“I heard the hatch slam shut about forty-five minutes ago, but I am unsure where he would’ve gone afterwards.”

The image of Dean’s stiff shoulders and the sound of his sharp tone reverberated through Castiel’s mind as Sam darted out of the hall. The ex-angel stood outside his (old) bedroom door and pushed his bags just inside the threshold. There was no use carrying them to Jack’s room if he had promised not to leave until his friend returned.

Jack. Castiel felt sparks of pain in his human stomach. This was going to be the hardest conversation of all.

~

_ Knock. Knock. _

“Yeah? Come in,” Jack called from the other side of the door, “Oh, hi, Cas.”

“Hello, Jack,” Castiel smiled as he took in the sight of his son sprawled comfortably across the bed, headphones laid to the side and some show Castiel vaguely recognized paused on his laptop screen. The boy had donned pajamas and the grey robe he’d borrowed from Dean more than once, “What are you doing?”

“I am watching  _ Friends _ ,” he framed the word in air quotes, accompanied by a brilliantly gap-toothed grin, “It was ‘recommended’ based on my viewing history.”

“Are you enjoying it so far?”

“I enjoy their friendships, how much they care for one another. But it seems like every episode they fail to communicate well and it creates a problem or hurts someone’s feelings. It’s quite frustrating to watch,” Jack furrowed his brow at the dark-haired actor frozen on the screen, “Plus, I don’t like Ross very much.”

“That does sound frustrating.”

Castiel sat down on the boy’s bed beside his waist, sighing as he did. One of the greatest things he’d gotten to experience since he became human was a new level of camaraderie with his son. They got to be uniquely angelic humans together. Though their experiences differed wildy, Castiel felt he could better connect with and guide Jack since he got to feel the tidal waves of human emotion and sensation right alongside his son. And, as the proverbial cherry on top, with his dulled human senses, he was better able to enjoy the hugs his son gave so willingly when allowed.

Jack tilted his head and examined Castiel’s face, sitting up.

“Something’s wrong,” Jack stated.

Castiel’s lips turned up at the corners. His son was so smart, so innately good even if he had trouble seeing his own worth sometimes.

“I’m afraid so, Jack.”

“Is someone hurt?” His light blue eyes suddenly widened and searched Castiel’s features, “Jody and the girls are okay, right?”

“Yes, Jack,” Castiel put what he hoped was a soothing hand on his son’s knee. What he wouldn’t give to be able to take his son with him, “They are fine, I promise. I actually need to talk to you about something else.”

“What is it?”

“I--” the words caught in the ex-angel’s throat and Castiel swallowed twice before he could force the sounds out, “I am moving out of the bunker, Jack.”

“What? Why?” his brow furrowed even further in a way that strangely reminded Castiel of himself. A little lightning bolt of pride struck his heart, “Was it something I did?”

“No, no, Jack, not at all,” he patted Jack’s forearm and met the boy’s grey-blue eyes. Castiel never  _ ever _ wanted Jack to believe he was to blame for his and Dean’s difficulties. Jack did not need to carry around anymore guilt then the four-year-old already did, “I promise, this has nothing to do with you. Sometimes, love just isn’t enough to solve problems. You need to be in agreement with the people around you, or at least come to some kind of mutual understanding...or it just won’t work. No matter how much you care for them.”

“Did...Did you have another fight with Dean?” Jack’s words were soft and careful and on the edge of pained.

Castiel felt a strange kind of exhaustion that clung to his bones. He had hoped to keep the specifics of his leaving vague--he didn’t want Jack blaming Dean for his leaving in the same way Sam seemed to.

“Yes, Jack. But it is my decision. I think it will be in this family’s best interest if I no longer lived here.”

Jack’s eyes were going watery and wounded. He was twisting his fists in the robe and clenching his jaw. Jack had much better control over his powers, but Castiel still stiffened at the frustration burning his son’s face.

“It was just a fight, Cas,” Jack said through his teeth, “You don’t have to leave just because of a fight.”

“I’m sorry, Jack...but this time I do.”

“Please, don’t go,” Jack’s shoulders slumped and he worried his lip--anger washing away to sadness in an instant. He was just a child and Castiel cursed himself for putting Jack through this. His last words died in a whisper, “don’t leave me.”

Castiel swallowed around the swelling that bubbled in his throat and his eyes searched the ceiling for answers. He should never have told Dean anything. He could be sitting in one of the library’s chairs reading peacefully with his whole family just a shout away--but instead he was saying goodbye to his child and the only place he felt content.

“I don’t want to leave you, Jack,” This hurt more than leaving Heaven, “But I’ll live close by and you can come visit me as often as you want...right now, though, you staying in the safety of the bunker is the best way to protect you--”

“No,” Jack’s face hardened once again, and he pulled away from Castiel’s touch and that--that  _ hurt _ , “you’re protecting yourself. I don’t need the bunker, I need my father, Castiel. I thought you said you were always going to take care of me? And-and now you’re just going to leave?”

Castiel’s eyes stung and his whole body felt too tight, squeezing his organs and the breath from his lungs. His gaze fell back to his blue jeans, he could not meet the burning, pained look he could feel boring into the side of his face. 

“I’m not an angel anymore, Jack--”

“I don’t need ‘an angel’, Cas I need  _ you _ . You being a human is even more reason for you to stay here and be safe, too! This is selfish, Castiel. It’s not what anyone wants but you,” Jack stood up from the bed and started to pace. The short distance between them felt like miles. His skin itched to wrap the boy in his arms in the most human desire to protect and comfort that he’d ever felt. He never wanted to let harm come to his son--but here he was, harming Jack, “When I was born and we thought you were dead...you didn’t see him, Cas, but Dean was broken. I know now that that’s why he hated me so much--he missed you and blamed me for your death.”

“It’s not like that this time, Jack--”

“How? How is this any different? You say you want what’s best for this family, but how is your leaving what anyone wants?” Jack suddenly froze. He turned to the ex-angel, blue rimmed in red stole Castiel’s breath away, “Do you not love us as much as we love you?”

“Of course I do, Jack,” Castiel rose from the bed and swallowed the boy up in his embrace before he could stop himself. He felt wet drops on his shoulder where Jack had buried his face. He hugged his son even tighter, “I love you very,  _ very _ much. Sam and Dean, too. But as I said...sometimes love just isn’t enough.”

~

Dean watched the small flatscreen behind the bar with glazed eyes. The Jayhawks were ahead and had been for a while, it looked like they were going to take the game. But who cared? Dean sure as hell didn’t.

He rolled his glass in his palm, staring at the golden swill of his whiskey. He cursed his alcohol tolerance which was keeping him depressingly sober and would for a good half hour at the rate he was going. But he wanted to forget now, not in a half hour. He didn’t want to picture Castiel’s hurt face or think about the fact that the ex-angel might be gone by the time he got back home.

Where had he gone wrong? After his prayer in Purgatory, well, hadn’t that been enough? He didn’t know what more he could do to show his best friend how much he cared about him--how much he loved him. They had had a good thing going. They finally trusted each other again...and then Cas just had to rock the boat. Didn’t he know that Dean was bad news by now? Hadn’t he seen Dean destroy enough of his exes’ lives to get the memo? Dean wasn’t about to hurt Cas like that. ‘Cause if they hooked up and then Cas left him because Dean screwed up...how was he supposed to deal with that?

“Oh my God, there you are!”

Dean let his forehead drop to the counter with a groan. What did a man have to do to get a little alone time? Was storming out of the bunker not a big enough hint to his gigantor brother that he wanted to be left alone?

“Turn around right now and just leave me alone, Sammy,” he paused, “Wait...how did you even find me so quick?”

Sam sidled up onto the stool next to him and Dean cracked--what he hoped was--one menacing eye at the man. 

“The GPS on your phone, jerk,” Dean rolled his eyes, his muttered ‘bitch’ lost in the folds of his jacket, “Now I’m not gonna leave until you tell me what the  _ hell _ you said to Cas,” Sam arched a challenging eyebrow.

“Why don’t you ask him, huh? He told you all about his man crush already, didn’t he?”

“‘Man cru--”? Look,” Sam ran a hand through his girly hair and flared his nostrils at the older man, “I know you’re not this stupid, Dean. I’ve been less than ten feet away from you for most of my life--and this has nothing to do with Cas being a dude--

“Hey now--” Dean felt his whole face flush, his cheeks starting to burn.

“Maybe you would’ve had your head up your ass about that still, like, five years ago--but we both  _ know _ that Cas’s junk isn’t what you have a problem with.”

Dean drew up to his elbows on the counter, fixing the big punk with his must ‘you better shut the hell up this instant’ look. Sam didn’t bat an eye.

“First of all, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about--”

Sam waved his protests off and plowed through.

“Cut the crap, Dean. What is it, huh? Why did our best friend just tell me that he’s leaving because he thinks you’re disgusted by him?”

“ _ What? _ ” Dean’s head snapped up and felt that roll of nausea again, “He thought I was  _ disgusted _ by him?  _ Why? _ ”

“Mhmm,” Sam nodded, staring Dean down until he bristled under those judgy, hazel eyes, “He said you couldn’t even look at him when he told you--”

“Whoa, wait a second,” Dean’ brain was starting to spike in panic. What the hell, man? How could Cas think Dean was disgusted by him? Dean wasn’t some kind of Grade-A douchebag even even if he hadn’t y’know, kinda sorta felt the same way, “It wasn’t like that. That wasn’t why--”

Sam threw up his hands and nearly up-ended Dean’s tumbler.

“I mean,” he huffed, “What were you thinking, Dean?”

“I wasn’t! Okay?” he snapped. He threw back the last swallow and slammed the glass back on the counter. He spun in his chair all the way and matched Sam’s squared shoulders, “He-he surprised me okay! Yeah, I guess I kinda knew how Cas felt but--it’d never work out, Sam! You know what our lives are like. You’re already my biggest weakness, and the bad guys know it too. And now with Jack…? If Cas and I ever, y’know...shacked up of whatever, that’d put him right in harm’s way.  _ Again _ . And now that Pinocchio’s a real boy--I can’t let anything happen to him, man. I wouldn’t make it through.”

“Dean…” Some of the fight left Sam’s rigid frame and he scrubbed exasperated hands across his face. 

“No matter what he thinks now--I’m just gonna mess it all up. Like I did with every friggin’ person I’ve ever given a damn about. Loving Cas just ain’t gonna cut it, Sammy,” And, God, did it feel like he’d just ripped out his own intestines and slammed them up on the bar, “I just wish it was enough to keep him from high-tailin’ it out of our lives.” 

Sam’s damn puppy eyes were like laser beams pummeling into him. Dean didn’t realize how on edge his whole system was until he nearly jumped out of his seat when one of his brother’s big-ass hands patted his shoulder, “I love you, man, but that’s a load of crap,” Dean felt his eyes turn to full moons, “You only screw relationships up by thinking that you’re all convinced you’re  _ going to  _ screw them up. We’re not...dude, there aren’t a whole lot of shots at happiness doing what we do. But think about it: Cas not only gets The Life, but he fights alongside us all the time. He knows all the bad stuff we’ve been through and all the messed-up stuff we’ve done and he’s still around. The dude gave up everything--even a friggin’ army once--instead of turning his back on you. And, now that he’s human, we all live together anyway. And man, you know how much I loved Bobby, but if Cas isn’t your best chance at not turning into a lonely, old, hermit bastard someday...I don’t know what is.”

Dean blinked. Well, the kid...actually kinda had a point. Not that he’d ever in a million years give Sammy the satisfaction of knowing he thought that.

“I mean...maybe. But--” It didn’t matter. The image of Castiel’s hardened eyes as he looked away from Dean made the hunter shiver, “Cas--He knows that I…y’know,” Dean glanced at the bartender who was taking someone’s order at the other end, “Love him back. And he’s still gonna leave, Sammy. If all that gooey, romantic stuff don’t work out between us--I’m not gonna be enough for him just as I am. And that ain’t his fault--it’s mine.”

“Oh my God,” Sam groaned before leering one of his more frequent bitchfaces, “But did you actually  _ tell _ Cas you loved him back? Like actual, big-boy words and everything?”

“I--” Dean furrowed his brow. The whiskey was starting to work its hazy magic, but Dean was pretty sure, somewhere in the midst of their argument, that he’d told Cas he loved him back. He...had to have, right? Cas had said the whole thing about leaving permanently, then Dean said that asshat comment about never kicking Cas out, then Cas said he valued their friendship, and...Dean had told Cas he loved him. Right? He knew that ‘I love this dork’ had been blare in his head like a siren the whole damn time they’d fought. He was so sure he’d said it.

But he hadn’t.

“Holy  _ crap _ .”

Dean was actually gonna vomit, he wasn’t kiddin’ this time.

“Dean,” Sam’s words were slow and firm, like he was trying to explain how feelings worked to some rugrat, “right now, Cas is back at the bunker thinking that you not only don’t love him back, but that you want him to leave for good, too. Whatever you said--it wasn’t nearly enough. So fix it.  _ Now _ .”

Dean licked his lips and swallowed before he rasped, “What--What do I even say? Just go up to him and be like, ‘Cas, I love you, too’? ‘I don’t want you to go’? ‘You’re the best thing that I constantly take for granted’? ‘You make me feel whole and I’m a mess whenever you leave’? ‘Even when I was madder than hell at you, that never changed how much I needed to know you were safe’? ‘I’m sorry I’m so screwed up that I push everyone I care about away’?”

Sam’s eyes were wide and he opened and shut his mouth twice before he started to nod his head, “Honestly...that’s not a bad start, yeah.”

Dean felt his chest squeeze under his ribs. He was sure he looked just as startled by his own words as Sam.

“I--” He glanced up at the TV and then over at the bartender. He fished a couple of bills out of his wallet and slammed them on the bar top, “Son of a  _ bitch _ .”

~

Castiel had packed and repacked his duffel bags twice now, Jack’s soulful eyes not leaving him from where the boy sat on the edge of his bed. The grey robe was billowy around him and Cas was having a hard time looking at it without seeing the hard set of Dean’s jaw and his hurt eyes. Jack’s own heartbroken stares were not helping in the least. He prayed that Sam would return soon.

“Would you like me to fix you lunch, Jack?” Castiel tried as he finally settled onto the bed, sitting at his son’s side. Now that Castiel was actually trying to look the boy in the eyes, Jack’s gaze had dropped to the concrete floor.

“What I’d like is for you to stay,” Jack murmured.

“Jack--” Castiel said on an exhale but the loud, squeaking clang of the bunker’s hatch cut through the air. Castiel froze at the sound of two, very distinctly different sets of footsteps padding down the metal staircase. He could hear the brothers voices and that they were talking to each other, but their words were muffled.

“ _ Cas? Cas! _ ” that was definitely Dean’s voice shouting for him. 

Castiel felt a breath choke in his throat. He coughed and shut his eyes, “In here.”

Both clomping shoes came down the hallway, and paused at his door. He glanced at Jack when no one on the other side made a move to enter his room. The boy seemed just as surprised (though more hopeful) as Castiel. He hadn’t actually thought Sam’s plan to get Dean here would work. But even still, nothing had really changed. At least he had an excuse to spend a few more minutes in his home before he left for Pittsburgh.

“ _ Dude, really? _ ” Sam huffed and suddenly he was wrapping on Castiel’s door, “ _ Cas? Can we come in? _ ”

“ _ Jeez, Sammy, I can do this myself _ ,” Dean grumbled as Castiel walked over to the door. The low timbre of his charge’s voice still felt like a comforting hum to his soul, a part of Castiel hoped that that would never change.

“ _ Apparently _ , you can’t--” Sam’s mouth snapped shut as soon as Castiel stood in the open door frame.

“Hello, Sam...Dean,” Castiel nodded at the older Winchester. His stomach rolled when Dean still didn’t seem like he could meet Castiel’s eye. So much for this all just being a ‘misunderstanding’.

When Dean quirked an awkward smile at the ground and shuffled in place, but did not respond. Sam loudly exhaled and rolled his eyes.

“Dean has something he wants to say.”

The older brother glared at him, “You can leave anytime now, Dr. Phil.”

“Nuh-uh,” Sam steeled his features, “I’m staying right here to make sure you two don’t screw this up again and Cas ends up moving to the other side of the state or something. Now, just tell him what you told me.”

Dean’s cheeks were a violent shade of pink that made Castiel’s stomach swoop. Forest green eyes finally met Castiel’s and he felt a tingle run down his spine. Was it really worth speaking his truth if in doing so, Dean could hardly even look at him anymore? Castiel’s bones cried out to just apologize again and again for the mess he’d made of all four of their lives...but a bigger part of him wanted to know what Dean had told his brother. 

TThe ex-angel kept his mouth tightly shut.

“So, listen, Cas…” Dean stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and shifted on his feet again. He caught sight of Jack over Cas’s shoulder, “Is that my robe?”

Castiel bristled even as his heart pounded in his ears, “That’s what you wanted to say?”

“ _ Dean _ ,” Sam warned with an accompanying glare.

“Alright, alright,” Finally, Dean looked straight at Castiel--he found no disgust there like he’d expected. There was...fear, pain, caring. But no disgust. Castiel felt sweat drip down his back, “What I wanted to say was...uh…”

Sam’s hand smacked Dean’s chest and the older Winchester glowered at him.

“Just spit it out, dude. This is ridiculous. You’re forty-one.”

“Shut up, Sammy,” The tips of Dean’s ears practically glowed.

“Come on, Dean,” Sam added with an emphatic gesture toward the boy on the bed, “Jack and I both already know that you’re in love with Cas, so it’s not like this is new information. The only one who doesn’t know is  _ Cas _ .”

Castiel felt his heart go from a menacing beat to an abrupt stop. Though it seemed physically impossible, Castiel was quite positive his heart had skipped a beat.

“Wait,” Jack squinted between the hunter and the ex-angel, “Why are they fighting? Cas loves Dean, too. What’s wrong?”

“That is a  _ very _ good question, Jack,” Sam said with his own pointed look between the two.

“You...You love me?” Castiel tilted his head to the side. Perhaps, the younger Winchester had meant ‘love’ in a brotherly way as Dean had once told him. But...Sam had said ‘ _ in _ love’, not just love. He didn’t actually mean...

Dean shrugged, but a small, familiar smile tugged at his lips like sunshine peeking over the horizon, “Yeah, Cas. I--I’m sorry I didn’t just say it before. I’m an idiot.”

Castiel licked his lips.

“But--Dean, you ‘don’t swing that way’...?” Yes, Castiel had spent some of his nervous energy Googling the phrase while he and Jack had waited for Sam to come home.

Sam scoffed and Dean elbowed him in the ribs.

“Yeah, well, I am mostly into chicks. But...you’re kind of an exception to the rule. When have you ever not been, though? Am I right?”

“Only the second half of that was true,” Sam gave a long sight that ended in a smile, “but I’ll let it slide.”

“I’m sorry, Cas. You don’t have to go. We don’t want you to go--” Sam’s elbow jammed into Dean’s bicep and the older hunter winced but looked unsurprised, “ _ I _ don’t want you to go.”

Castiel felt his knees go a little wobbly and he leaned into the thick, mahogany door, rocking it back on its hinges. 

“I don’t understand...this whole time and--why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Dean’s eyes fell to the ground again and he leaned against Castiel’s side of the doorjamb. Their faces were only a breath away from each other now. Dean cocked an eyebrow at his brother that seemed to pull Sam out of whatever reverie he’d been lulled into.

“Um, oh…” The younger Winchester’s brows hiked up his forehead.

“Happy now, Sam? I told the dude how…” Dean’s cheeks seemed to bloom even further with pink as he said, “friggin’ _ head-over-heels _ I am so can you just, like, give us a minute? Huh?”

Sam looked warily between the two before sighing (it was perhaps the fourth time he’d done so since arriving at Castiel’s door).

“Yeah. Fine,” Sam nodded at Jack who’d wandered closer to them at some point, “Come on, Jack.”

“Are they going to make up?” Jack whispered to Sam as he was ushered out of the room by big hands and a wall of plaid, “Are they each other’s lobster?”

“Did you let him watch  _ Friends _ ?” Dean wrinkled his nose at Castiel.

He shrugged, “It was recommended to him by the Netflix algorithm.”

Once the scuffle of Sam and Jack’s shoes had disappeared down the hall, Castiel and Dean were left within a silence that was thick in the ex-angel’s ears.

“So…” Dean bounced on his knees before slumping back into the doorjamb.

“Dean,” Castiel stared at the tightness of Dean’s beautiful face. He wanted...well, a lot of things from Dean. But before he could even begin to ask those questions he needed to know: “What do you want from me?”

He was careful to convey no malice in his voice. He wasn’t angry, not in the least. But he just needed to know what this befuddling man who could act righteously on instinct but stumbled terribly over his own words truly wanted from their relationship. Castiel was horribly (optimistically) confused now. 

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean’s face was the most dazzling mixture of terror and hope that Castiel had ever seen, “I know I don’t wanna lose you again.”

Castiel smiled at his now-socked feet. 

“You’re sure?”

“What, ’ve I been speaking Mandarin over here?” Dean laughed, “ _ Yes _ . I’m sure, man.”

“Then I won’t leave,” Castiel felt his smile only grow at the teasing, “You know, you did not answer my question earlier.”

“Yeah?” Dean’s eyebrow arched and something in Castiel’s stomach fluttered where he’d only felt stones before.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

The hunter rubbed the back of his flushed neck before looking up through his dark blond eyelashes at Castiel, “You mean...during the fight?” 

“Or any other time over the past twelve years.”

Dean’s smile only beamed brighter, “You been stuck on me that long, angel?”

“I’m serious, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean’s hands shuffled in his pockets, and for a moment Castiel almost wondered if Dean would walk away again. But he looks resolutely up instead.

“Well, you were a damn  _ angel _ , Cas. I already feel like I screwed you over more times than I can count and I...I’m not a  _ good _ man. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out why you’d want anything to do with me. Honest to God, I still don’t understand why…”

The hunter rubbed a thumb at the corner of his mouth.

“Why what, Dean?”

“Why  _ me _ ?”

Castiel’s smile blossomed and felt warm and new on his lips, “I don’t know why your soul and mine are linked. But they…  _ are _ . Inextricably. Ever since I--” Castiel reached his hand out slightly in front of him, feeling the phantom softness of Dean’s soul in his hands again. It seemed like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once. He saw a grin tugging at the corner of rosy lips in his periphery, “I touched your soul in Hell….Suffice it to say: you are a hard man to forget, Dean Winchester.”

“So, how come  _ you _ never said anything, then?”

Castiel reached out and buttoned the second highest button on the hunter’s dark green flannel, his whole body growing looser at a memory, “You once told me that when people want something they lie,” He smoothed the collar, letting his fingers linger for an extra heartbeat before withdrawing his hands, “In my case, I lied because I wanted you, Dean. And, at the time, I thought friendship was the only way you’d have me.”

“Yeah?” Dean’s eyes crinkled. He licked his lips, “So what now? It’s not like we can start all over. Go back to the beginning.”

“And I wouldn’t want us to, Dean. I meant what I said so long ago,” Castiel’s heart did not thunder in his ears as he reached his hand across the short distance between them--it steadied into a calm rhythm. Dean loved him too. What was there to fear? The hunter’s breath hitched when Castiel held Dean’s wrist where it jutted out of his jacket pocket. “For all the horrors I’ve seen, knowing you and Sam, and your family, and Jack--this has been the best part of my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Dean’s own hand slipped out of his pocket and he intertwined their fingers. The hunter’s calloused hand was warm and unyielding.

“Me neither, buddy.”

“Then, I suggest we start from the middle...see where the journey takes us.”

“The middle, huh?” Dean held his gaze, “Yeah, that’s as good a place as any.”

**[ _Fade_** _**to black** _ **]**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> I'm super curious: how do you think it would go canon?


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